


The Mirror of Erised

by ShiaM



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Sad, Smut, its probably just sad, well it was meant to be dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-23
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3984976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiaM/pseuds/ShiaM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco knows where the Mirror of Erised is and it shows him what he wants to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mirror of Erised

**Author's Note:**

> So this one was a prompt by Parkborn. She asked for it to be dark (the smut is fluff) but its probably sad instead. You be the judge. Enjoy.

They approached the door labeled ‘storage’. Slowing their pace the blond turned to his broad shouldered friends. “Stay here and guard the door. I don’t want anyone entering before I leave, you hear me?” He snarled. They mumbled affirmative responses and took their positions on either side of the door. They had done this before. 

The blonde opened the door and went inside. He stumbled blindly for a moment while he pulled out his wand. “Lumos” he whispered, approaching the bookshelf with slight hesitation. What if they had moved it again? What if it didn’t show him what he came here for? These were the panicked questions that bounced around his head and threatened to drive him mad. He didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t see her. 

After tapping the books in a sequence not unlike that used to enter Diagon alley from The Leaky Cauldron, he waited and waited, before at last the bookshelf slid aside to reveal a small room. It contained a large bed, a desk and a wooden wardrobe, and in the corner stood a large mirror. He exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding, took a seat on the edge of the bed and gazed into the mirror. 

With shocking clarity, almost as if the mirror was dredging though his soul, it replayed his desires for him to see in its glassy depths; 

First his mother and father, smiling and holding hands, with no looming fear of The Dark Lord over their heads. He shook this thought away; it was not what he was looking for at this present moment. 

Hermione stood in the darkened hallway with a gleaming look in her eye that he knew to be desire. She beckoned to him and he followed. Further into the maze of corridors they went, she would occasionally look over her shoulder with a sultry smirk, enticing him. He felt his length grow harder with each footstep they took. She rounded a corner and the mirror went black. 

Then there was just her, her frizzy hair splayed behind her head and draped over the pillow, and him, crouched over her, knees on either side of her hips, with one palm ensnared by her luscious locks, the other gently caressing her naked breast. The mirror depicted him kissing her with such passion, it was almost as if the Draco within the glass knew she was not his to hold. The sight of their naked forms so close and so intimately positioned nearly brought him to his full hardness there and then, but he knew he had to hold back until his glass counterpart was ready. 

She brushed his fringe from his eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, before whispering, in that gentle tone he had never had the honor of experiencing himself, “Draco, I'm ready.” and to the Draco outside the mirror, this was his cue to pull his member from his trousers. With a firm hand he positioned himself in his lap and watched, waiting patiently.

The Draco within the mirror smiled at her in a way that the Draco outside the mirror never had smiled before, and as he watched the mirror Draco kiss Hermione on the neck, and then the collarbone, and then on her erect nipple as he slowly made his way down to her thighs and then her core, he knew why. It was love, and it was a love the Draco outside the mirror would never experience and could never reveal. He had done and said too much, he had wronged her, and he had let his upbringing spoil the small flicker of love that would have developed into a soul crushing and heartbreaking affection for the girl who he should have cherished, instead of mocked. 

The mirror Draco kissed the girls’ nether lips, relishing their sweet taste and causing her to moan with pleasure. Upon hearing this moan he rose up and recaptured her lips, relapsing into a fiery kiss which he broke after a moment to whisper in her ear “I will never let you go,” He turned to look at her in the eyes “I love you.”

With that he pushed into her dripping core, and after giving her a moment to adjust to his girth, he began to thrust into her, alternating between slow and fast in order to achieve her release. With this the Draco outside the mirror began to thrust into his hand, mirroring the glass Draco’s movements, imagining Hermione surrounding him, rather than his fingers. 

She raked her fingernails down his back, her spine arching with pleasure and desire causing him to moan. She laughed and he smiled that smile again. They continued at this pace for a moment or so before Draco’s thrusts became more erratic, him nearing his peak, before at last he came into her, his spine arched and his knees weak, the name “Hermione” on his lips, but he didn’t stop thrusting. The Draco outside the mirror reached his peak and came into his hands, but rather than get up to clean himself, he sat and watched. 

Her back began to arch higher and with her eyes gazing into his, she whispered, “Draco, don’t stop. I'm almost there.” So he continued, and with a gasp, her body shuddering as she too reached her peak, she moaned his name. 

After a moment to detach themselves from each other he laid down beside her, the mirror Draco taking her into his arms. She nuzzled into his neck and whispered “I love you too Draco.” He smiled again and kissed the top of her head. Then the couple laid there and slowly they fell asleep.

The Draco outside the mirror felt like an intruder. He felt as if he had encroached upon something private that was not his to have seen, even though this was one of his desires. Here he sat, alone in an old and dusty room, with cum on his pants that was slowly drying and no Hermione to call his own. He wondered why he visited this mirror, as it only made him sadder. She was not his, and she never would be, and with that thought on his mind he laid down on the bed. 

If it wasn’t for the quiet noises he made, you wouldn’t have known he was crying.


End file.
